I spent the next two days hiding in our room. My back felt like it had been sliced open by a hot wire, but every time I looked in the mirror, there was no blood. Just those two flickering, smoke-like things twitching behind me.
They weren't "wings" in the way Angels have wings. They didn't have feathers. They didn't have weight. They looked like ink dropped into water, swirling and dark. And they were annoying. If I got startled, they flared out. If I was sleepy, they drooped.
It was like having two extra limbs that didn't listen to me.
"Just focus," I whispered to myself.
I was standing in the middle of the bedroom. Athan was gone..something about a border dispute. Again. I swear, that man spends more time stabbing people than eating.
I was trying to do what Argenta told me. "Think of a shape. Make the shadow hold it."
I closed my eyes. I wanted to make something simple. A flower? No, that's too girly. A sword? Maybe. I thought about Athan's training sword. Long, thick, slightly curved at the top.
I pushed the magic down my spine. I felt the shadows behind me stir. I could hear the faint hiss of the smoke as it moved.
"Okay," I muttered, sweating from the effort. "Hold it. Make it solid."
I felt the shape form. It felt heavy. It felt... sturdy. I was actually doing it! I could feel the shadow stretching out into the room, tall and thick. I kept my eyes shut tight, pouring all my concentration into that one image in my head. A long, upright pillar of power.
"Subtle, Little Bird. I get the hint."
I shrieked and spun around. My eyes flew open.
Athan was standing by the door. He was leaning against the frame, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked exhausted, his hair damp with rain, but his golden eyes were fixed on the center of the room.
I looked where he was looking.
My heart stopped.
The shadow wasn't a sword. I had lost focus for a split second…probably thinking about Athan's hands or his legs or... whatever,and the shadow had responded to my subconscious.
It was a giant, pulsing, six-foot-tall shadow that looked exactly like a... well. It was a phallic symbol. A very detailed, very dark, very vibrating one.
"Oh my gods," I whispered.
I waved my hands frantically, trying to swat the shadow away. "It's not..it's a sword! I was making a sword!"
Athan raised a dark eyebrow. He walked into the room, his boots thumping on the rug. He stopped right in front of the giant shadow-cock, which was currently flickering because of my panic.
"A sword?" he asked. His voice was thick with suppressed laughter. "With a head like that? You'd have a hard time parrying, Celeste."
"It's a mistake! I'm still learning!" I scrambled toward the bed, my face so hot I felt like I was melting. "Go away! Why are you even back so early?"
Athan didn't go away. He reached out and actually poked the shadow. His finger went through it, and the smoke swirled around his hand like it was greeting him.
"It's quite impressive," he murmured, turning to look at me. "Is this what you spend your afternoons doing? Dreaming up... equipment?"
"I hate you," I moaned, burying my face in a pillow. "I hate this magic. I hate everything."
I heard him chuckle. It was a low, warm sound that made my stomach do a somersault. I felt the bed dip as he sat down on the edge.
"It's okay," he said. I could hear the smirk in his voice. "At least I know your imagination is healthy. But maybe keep the 'swords' smaller next time. You'll drain your energy."
He reached out and pulled the pillow away from my face. I tried to grab it back, but he was too strong. He was looking at me with that reserved, intense look. The humor was gone, replaced by something much heavier.
"The shadow moved because you were thinking about me," he said. It wasn't a question.
"I was not," I lied. I looked at his collarbone.
"You were." He leaned over me, his obsidian wings…the real ones…unfurling slightly to cage me in. "I can feel your magic, Celeste. It tastes like... frustration."
He reached out, his thumb catching my bottom lip and pulling it down slightly. I couldn't breathe. The room felt too small. The air was thick with the scent of rain and him.
"You've been practicing," he whispered.
"Argenta said I had to," I gasped.
"Good." His hand moved from my face to my shoulder, his fingers grazing the skin where my shadow wings emerged.
I shivered. It wasn't just a physical touch. When he touched the base of the wings, I felt it in my soul. It was like he was touching my bare nerves.
"Athan..."
"Stay still," he muttered.
He slid his hand down my back. His touch was firm, tracing the line of my spine. My shadow wings flared out instinctively, wrapping around his arm. They weren't solid, but they were cool, like a breeze. They clung to him, swirling around his bicep.
Athan's eyes darkened. He looked down at the smoke clinging to his skin. "They like me."
"They don't know any better," I whispered.
He leaned closer. His face was inches from mine. I could see the tiny gold cracks in his irises. "Do you? Do you know any better, Little Bird?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't. I reached up, my hands shaking, and touched the scars on his chest. His skin was so hot. He was always so hot.
He groaned, a low sound in the back of his throat. He shifted, pinning me into the mattress with his weight. He wasn't hurting me…he was just there. He was heavy and solid and real.
"I should go," he whispered, but he didn't move. He lowered his head, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of my neck. "I have reports to read. I have a war to plan."
"Then go," I said, my voice cracking. My hands moved into his hair, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.
Athan let out a breathy laugh against my skin. "You're a terrible influence."
He bit my neck..not hard, just enough to leave a mark. I arched my back, my shadow wings thrashing against the bed. They were trying to grip him, trying to pull him down.
Athan pulled back just enough to look me in the eye. He looked like he was fighting himself. "Tonight," he promised. "When the palace is quiet. I'll show you what a real sword looks like."
He stood up before I could react. He straightened his clothes, his expression turning cold and kingly again, as if the last five minutes hadn't happened.
"Get some rest," he said. "You're still pale."
He walked out of the room without looking back.
I stayed on the bed, my heart racing, my skin still tingling where he'd touched me. I looked at the center of the room. The shadow-cock was gone, dissipated into nothing.
I rolled over and groaned into the mattress.
"I am definitely going to hell," I whispered.
Then I remembered: I was already in the Underworld. And the Devil was my husband.
And he was coming back tonight.
I spent the rest of the evening trying to act normal. I ate dinner with Argenta. She kept looking at my neck, where the faint red mark from Athan's teeth was sitting.
"Nice scarf," she said, biting into an apple.
"It's a bruise. I hit a door," I snapped.
"A door with teeth? Dangerous palace we have here," she smirked.
I ignored her. I went back to our room early. I bathed, the hot water making my skin sensitive. I put on a thin silk nightgown..black, of course. Everything here was black.
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The silence of the palace felt heavy. I could hear the wind howling outside the glass.
Then, I heard the click of the door.
I didn't turn around. I kept my back to the entrance, my heart hammering against my ribs. I heard the sound of armor being unbuckled. The heavy thud of boots.
The bed dipped.
Athan didn't say a word. He slid under the furs. He was bare chested… could feel the heat of his skin against my back. He reached out and pulled me against him, his arm wrapping around my waist, his hand resting right over my heart.
"You're awake," he muttered.
"I couldn't sleep," I whispered.
He buried his face in my hair, taking a deep breath. He smelled like cedar and something dark.
"Athan?"
"Mm?"
"The shadow wings... do they make me a monster?"
He stayed quiet for a long time. Then, he shifted. He moved his hand from my waist to my back, his fingers tracing the edge of the smoke-wings.
"In the sky, they would call you a monster," he said. "In the light, they fear what they can't control."
He turned me in his arms so I was facing him. The room was dark, but his eyes were like twin lanterns.
"But here?" He leaned down, his lips ghosting over mine. "Here, you're just beautiful."
He kissed me on my neck.It wasn't teasing or reserved. It was deep and hungry.
My shadow wings flared out, wrapping around his waist, pulling him into me. They felt like silk ribbons.
Athan groaned into the kiss. He moved his hand down, his fingers bunching the silk of my nightgown, pulling it up.
"I've wanted you since the moment you fell into my lap," he whispered against my lips. "Since you bled on my floor."
"Then take me," I gasped.
"I'm dangerous, Celeste," he whispered, his voice vibrating against my collarbone. "I'm a creature of hunger. You shouldn't be asking me to take anything."
The heat in the room suddenly felt suffocating. I looked up at him, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. For a second, I thought I saw a flash of something soft in his eyes…maybe even regret.
But then his expression flattened into that cold, kingly mask he always wore. He pulled his hand away from my thigh, the sudden lack of contact making me feel like I'd been dropped into ice water.
"Go to sleep," he said. It wasn't a suggestion; it was an order. He turned his back to me, his massive wings folding over him like a wall of black iron, cutting me off completely.
I lay there in the dark, staring at the back of his head. My skin was still buzzing, my mind a mess of half-formed thoughts and stinging rejection. He didn't want me. He wanted the shroud-wings. He wanted the weapon that could kill his enemies.
He'd probably only touched me to see if the magic would react..a test, like a blacksmith checking the edge of a new sword.
I curled into a ball on the very edge of the mattress, clutching the furs to my chest. He was too dangerous to love, and far too reserved to ever truly care about a wingless girl from the sky who had only just learned how to stop shaking.
As the silence of the room swallowed me whole, I realized the most painful part: the only thing more dangerous than Athan's power was the fact that I was starting to wish he'd use it on me.